


Out of Denial

by padfootprophet



Category: DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Titans (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Capes, Arcades, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25688884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padfootprophet/pseuds/padfootprophet
Summary: Garth apparently has it out for him, because he waits until Wally has a mouthful of beer to say. "Roy thinks you have a crush on Dick. And that you're dating people who look like him because you're in denial."Wally chokes, splutters, and definitely spits beer onto his shirt. "What?" he croaks, between coughs. "I don't— that's just—" His brain is not working quick enough to finish sentences apparently. "Dick?" Garth's cheek twitches and the corners of his eyes crinkle, like he's laughing at Wally too. His friends are assholes. "I'm quitting. You can tell Roy."(the thing about being in denial is that you don't always realise you're there until you get out the other end)
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West
Comments: 14
Kudos: 289





	Out of Denial

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from, it was completely unplanned, and I didn't know where it was going until I got there. Hopefully it's a fun, cute fic though.

"You know," Wally says, trying to pull apart the fried wiring on the inside of the arcade cabinet without getting electrocuted. He's not sure where Roy gets these things, but it's clear why he pays Wally to refurbish them. "I was supposed to have a date today."

Roy leans into his light, ignoring Wally's frustrated huff. "Somehow, I don't feel bad when I'm paying you. Besides I thought you'd sworn off dating."

Wally flushes. He'd deleted Tinder after the Worst Date Ever and denounced the entire concept of love. A spark jumps past his fingers. "Are you sure you unplugged this?"

"Yep," Roy says. Wally glances across at him suspiciously. "Trust me, if I wanted to get rid of you that badly I wouldn't be relying on electrocuting the guy who survived a lightning strike."

Wally shifts to try and disconnect the internal battery. Obviously it's got enough power to do _something._ "I still haven't reinstalled Tinder," he says, "but I was talking to the cute guy who works at Panda Express and one thing led to another..." He shrugs. "But now I've had to cancel so I guess I _am_ done with dating."

Roy snorts. "The Panda Express Guy?"

"What?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing. He's certainly your type."

Wally isn't sure how to take _that_. He wasn't aware having a type was a bad thing, and he's definitely not the first person to do so. He scowls. "Just because I have standards." Unlike Roy, who'll date anyone who pays him positive attention. Okay, not _that_ unlike Roy. "There's nothing wrong with preferences."

Roy shakes his head again, but it's obvious he's barely holding back laughing at Wally.

The cabinet shifts as someone leans against it and Wally almost snaps at Roy to _let him get on with his job_ when a paper take-out bag catches his attention. He looks up to find Dick, McDonald's in one hand and a diet coke—probably—in the other. "What are you two gossiping about?" Dick asks.

Wally ignores the question in favour of leaning up to grab the bag from Dick's hand and pulling out a cheese burger. His best friend is a saint.

"You sure you should be getting burger grease in there?" Roy asks.

"You should be more worried about the salt," Wally says, sighing as he bites into the burger. He had maybe forgotten about lunch. "In terms of messing with the electrics." Roy raises an eyebrow at him. "Because of the conductivity? Did you pay any attention in science classes?"

"We both know Roy was only interested in science when it blew up," Dick says chewing on the straw of his soda. He leans past Wally to grab a few fries from the bag.

Roy smirks, the same way he used to when Wally was in college and he'd show up at parties to act as Wally's personal cockblock. Wally doesn't know why they're still friends. Roy snags the diet coke out of Dick's hand, pops off the lid and steals a chunk of ice. "So," he says, crunching. "Wally's got a date."

"Oh." Dick blinks. "Cool." He sounds detached, distracted, but before Wally can ask about it he's glancing at his watch. "Look, I gotta go. I'll see you later." He doesn't even stop long enough to reclaim his soda, or to respond to Wally calling a goodbye at his back.

"What was that about?" Wally asks, frowning.

Roy snorts. "You're an idiot," he says. Which is absolutely useless but Wally's gotten this far in life without relying on Roy to be use _f_ _ul_.

Wally is taking a break with a beer stolen from behind the bar when Garth shows up for his shift, carefully hanging his coat in his locker, a direct contrast to the way Wally's is stuffed in his.

"Should you be drinking at work?" Garth asks, draping his lanyard around his neck.

Wally shrugs. "The manager owes me."

"The manager?" Garth quotes, arching an eyebrow. "What did Roy do now?"

"He was making fun of me for having a type."

"You might have to start at the beginning."

Wally huffs, but obliges, explaining his cancelled date and Roy laughing at him for asking the guy out in the first place. He figures if nothing else Garth knows Roy better than any of them, except maybe Dick, and if something was bothering Dick earlier then he's far more likely to get a straight answer out of Garth.

Garth frowns at him. "The cute guy at Panda Express?" he asks. "Which one is that?"

"You know. Dark hair, blues eyes, dimples when he smiles."

"Ah." Garth slowly sits in the chair across from Wally, running a hand across his chin, and the stubble growing in there. "And you don't see the resemblance to...?" He gestures vaguely and Wally blinks.

"To...?" he prompts. "The nursing student? The pretzel girl? The Worst Date Ever?" And okay, maybe Wally _does_ have a type, but he's not sure why it warrants being laughed at.

"Your best friend?"

Wally freezes, staring at Garth. "Really?" He thinks back on his many failed attempts at romance. He can see similarities, but half of them could also be shared with Garth, or a thousand other people. "Is that why Roy was making fun of me? Because he thinks Dick is my type?" He needs another beer; Roy definitely owes him.

Garth is still watching him, and apparently has it out for him, because he waits until Wally has a mouthful of beer to say. "Roy thinks you have a crush on Dick. And that you're dating people who look like him because you're in denial."

Wally chokes, splutters, and definitely spits beer onto his shirt. "What?" he croaks, between coughs. "I don't— that's just—" His brain is not working quick enough to finish sentences apparently. " _Dick_?" Garth's cheek twitches and the corners of his eyes crinkle, like he's laughing at Wally too. His friends are _assholes_. "I'm quitting. You can tell Roy."

He stomps back to the half-gutted arcade cabinet with probably very little dignity remaining. Maybe he'll get lucky and actually electrocute himself.

_[boy wonderful] u need a ride?_

_[boy wonderful] and/or starbucks?_

Dick's still nursing his frappuccino, leaning against the wall of the back-alley, as Wally locks up behind them. Whatever had been on his mind earlier doesn't seem to be bothering him anymore and Wally doesn't _really_ want to bring it up. "You got any plans tomorrow?" he asks instead. "As long as nothing falls apart I should be free."

Dick shrugs, mostly focused on getting as much caffeine as possible out of his Starbucks. "Sorry, I made plans with Kory."

Wally shoves the keys into his pocket, frowning when it catches on the fabric and pulls a thread loose. "Really?" he asks. It's not unheard of; Dick tends to insist on staying friends with his exes, but this is the first he's heard of Dick hanging out with Kory alone since their pretty intense breakup. "Something happening there?"

Dick shrugs again, which is odd. It's not like him to be so indifferent towards potential romantic prospects. He's normally all in or all out. Wally frowns, but Dick isn't looking at him. "Garth's practically married, Donna's getting serious, even _you're_ looking for a relationship..." he trails off. "I don't really want to be the only single one."

It's a little weird to see Dick, normally completely confident in himself, show his vulnerabilities, his fear of being alone. Wally hadn't even known the idea was something that Dick would be bothered about. "I think Roy might have oversold my relationship," Wally says. "I was going to get coffee with a guy and then cancelled for work. We're not exactly... well, we're not _anything_."

"You'd like to be, though. Right?"

"Maybe?" Wally pulls the frappuccino from Dick's hands and takes a sip, it's mostly ice and enough caramel syrup to cover up the taste of the extra espresso shot he probably ordered. "I don't know, man, I barely know him. I thought he was cute but... that's what the date was for."

Panda Express Guy hadn't been too upset when Wally had cancelled, but he also hadn't responded to Wally's text suggesting they reschedule. Wally's not sure where he stands, but he's been ghosted enough to have his suspicions. He takes another sip of frappuccino before passing it back to Dick. "I'm not _not_ single, is what I'm saying."

"Besides," he adds as they step out of the back-alley and he spots Dick's car, "I wouldn't stop hanging out with you even if I did start seeing someone. So you can stop being so..."

"Worried?"

"I was going to use the word neurotic, but sure, worried."

Dick elbows him, but he's smiling at least.

Donna shoves Wally's feet off the couch and he barely catches the bag of chips resting against his thighs before they hit the ground. "Donna," he whines, as she makes herself comfortable against the cushion he'd been using as a foot-rest. "Why?"

"I'm tired of watching you mope."

"I'm not moping." Wally frowns and drops his half-finished bag of chips onto the coffee table, trying to rearrange himself into the halved space. "Why would I be moping?"

"I don't know." Donna's watching him with scrutiny, probably a habit she picked up from living with Dick, or maybe why they get along so well. "But you're attempting to meld with my sofa so something's up."

"This sofa is fifty percent Dick's," Wally says. Dick wouldn't have moved him, or would have at least let Wally put his feet in his lap. "I have best friend rights."

"Not when he's not around."

"Right." Wally tries not to come across as pouty. He'd kind of been hoping that Dick's plans with Kory's wouldn't turn out to be a full day thing and that he'd get to spend the evening with his best friend. Not that he'd minded take out and movies with Donna, but it definitely felt a little like a consolation prize. "Because he's still with Kory."

Donna tilts her head at him, something calculating still in her gaze. "And that bothers you?"

"No." Wally folds his arms across himself. "It just... doesn't make sense. It's not like he _likes_ her anymore. Who wants to spend that much time with their ex?"

"They're friends." Donna snatches the chip bag from the table and slowly chews a few. "Try not to be jealous."

"Dick's allowed to have friends who aren't me."

"Even friends he's shown romantic inclinations towards?" Donna's watching him. "Other than you?"

Wally feels his face turn red, but he's not entertaining this anymore than Garth's _Roy thinks you have a crush on Dick_. "Not you too," he says with a groan. "I don't like Dick."

"I thought you were proudly pan?" She grins, even though the joke is about as funny as Dick's tend to be.

He grabs the chip bag out of her hand, even though it's mostly empty now. "I can see how you put up living with Dick now. You're both painfully bad at jokes."

_ <twinkle toes> so long orange chicken i loved you well _

_ <gillhead> can you stop being a romantic disaster at places we eat? _

"I think you owe me," Wally says as he and Roy finish setting up the fully refurbished cabinet. It lights up, tinny music blasting through the newly installed speakers.

"You're getting paid, aren't you?" Roy says. "But here," he digs through his pockets and pulls out a quarter, flipping it in Wally's direction. "First game's on me."

Wally fumbles and the coin tinks against the side of the cabinet before hitting the ground. He huffs. "I meant for the fact I cancelled my date and now can't even go to Panda Express."

"You could if you were an adult."

"It's too late. I can't unsend seventeen texts."

Roy sighs. "What do you want me to do? Crash course in modern relationships?"

"You know a lot of people, right?"

Roy stares and Wally feels his ears heat up. "You want me to set you up with someone?" Roy asks after a long moment, exasperation replaced with thinly veiled laughter.

"Well I'm not having much luck on my own." Wally mimes swinging a bat—and missing—and then realises it's probably a dumb visual metaphor. He scratches the back of his neck. "I strike out a lot."

"I might know someone."

"Really?" Roy doesn't answer, already pulling out his phone and walking away. Wally takes one step, pauses to pick up the quarter Roy had thrown him, then bounces after him trying to peer over his shoulder. "Who?"

Roy stuffs his phone back into his pocket before Wally can see anything. "Ah, no. This is a blind date. You'll have to trust me."

"Because that always goes well for me."

Roy smirks at him. "You asked for my help." He jerks his head to the side. "Some kids shoved gum in Ms. Pac-Man."

Wally deflates. "Seriously?"

"It's what I pay you for, right?"

_[other ginger] Starbucks on Elm @ 6.30. Put some effort in._

Wally shows up early, even after taking time to iron his shirt, and buys a blueberry muffin because—despite his mother's voice in his head—he doesn't think one muffin will ruin his appetite. He's mostly using it as a place to direct his anxious energy anyway, pulling the cake apart with quick fingers and only occasionally taking bites.

He takes a window seat, wishing Roy had given him something to go off, and frowns when he spots Dick, wearing a leather jacket over a Henley shirt and skinny jeans. Wally makes eye contact with him as he pulls open the door to the Starbucks, brows drawn together in slight confusion.

"Hey," Dick says, slipping into the seat across from Wally. His eyes flicker over Wally's outfit and he looks back up with a tilted head. "You look... like you're meeting someone more important than me."

Wally has a sinking suspicion he's been set up. "I _was_ supposed to be meeting someone. What are you doing here?"

Dick shrugs. "Roy asked me to meet up with him." He leans across the table to snag a chunk of Wally's muffin. "Said he had a 'surprise'." Dick pauses to put air quotes around the word with a shake of his head. "I don't know what it says about me that I went along with it."

Wally's going to murder Roy.

Something of his churning emotions must show on his face because Dick frowns a little and asks, "What's wrong?"

"I—" He blinks at Dick and tries a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. "I'll be back in a minute."

The Starbucks bathroom doesn't exactly offer much privacy, but it allows Wally to take a deep breath before fishing out his phone.

Roy picks up on the third ring. "Hello, Wally." Even through the phone he sounds smug.

"Hey, asshole."

"What?" Roy's laughing.

"Dick."

"Doubling up on the insults?" Wally makes a frustrated noise. "Just take him out for dinner," Roy suggests. "And if it eases your pride tell him your date stood you up."

Wally hangs up, then takes a second to lean against the sink, pinching the bridge of his nose. Roy's scheming aside, hanging out with Dick sounds like a better plan than going home alone, and if Wally looks particularly pathetic Dick will probably pay. He'll probably pay even if Wally doesn't, but he thinks putting on a happy face might be too much to ask.

Dick tilts his head curiously when Wally returns, mouthful of the remains of Wally's muffin.

"Looks like my dinner plans fell through," Wally says.

"Well, you can hang out with me and Roy," Dick says. His phone buzzes loudly and he fishes it out, frowning slightly at the message. Wally has a good idea what it says even before Dick amends, "Or I guess you can hang out with me."

"Roy flaked, huh?"

Dick shrugs. "Want to go get some food? My treat."

They wind up in an upscale burger joint, which Wally thinks is a contradiction of terms, but he writes it off as a quirk of living in New York and focuses on what's important: namely, a decent burger that Dick is buying him.

"So," Dick says when Wally's about halfway through his burger. He's staring pretty intently at a bead of condensation running down the glass of his milkshake, shoulders hunched and brows furrowed. "Who were you supposed to be meeting tonight?"

Wally flushes. He'd been hoping it wouldn't come up. "It doesn't matter," he says, reaching across the table to steal a fry because Dick had ordered sweet potato and he'd ordered curly and he'd share pretty much anything with Dick except the truth of why Roy had invited him out. "You'd think I'd learn not to get my hopes up."

He feels Dick's ankle brush against his under the table and hooks their feet together unthinkingly. "I don't know how anyone can't see how lucky they'd be to have you."

"Can you tell them that?"

"Sure. Just give me a list of names."

Wally laughs and steals another fry, dipping it in Dick's milkshake for good measure, because it was chocolate and Wally had ordered strawberry. "I'm lucky to have you," he says, and then because Roy has gotten into his head he chokes a little and hurriedly adds, "As my best friend."

"Right." Dick is frowning and Wally desperately grasps for a subject change.

"How's Kory?" he asks.

Dick's expression doesn't lighten. "She's good." He slowly rolls the straw of his milkshake between his fingers. "We're not getting back together. If that's what you're really asking."

"Good," Wally says. Dick blinks across at him, head tilted and Wally stutters. "I mean, just that, not that dating Kory is _bad_. I just think you should date someone you really like, not settle because you're worried about being alone or whatever."

"Provided someone I really like likes me back."

"Come on, who could resist you?"

Dick just shakes his head, ankle still hooked around Wally's.

Wally really needs to talk to Roy about security, and specifically about how hiding the spare key behind a loose brick is for your crappy apartment, not your business. "I'm pretty sure this is breaking and entering," he says, watching Dick push the brick back into place, key in hand.

Dick grins at him, a little sharp around the edges. "Actually, thanks to Roy's crappy credit it's my name on the lease." He opens the back door with a flourish. "Can't break into a place you own."

The arcade is a strange place to be at night, with no light except the odd blinks of backup power and the streetlight filtering through the metal shutter at the front door, no ringing sounds of arcade machines, replaced by the quiet hum of the refrigerators. Dick ducks behind the bar and for a moment his face is highlighted by the bright light spilling through the open fridge door. "Beer?" he asks.

"That's _definitely_ stealing."

Dick shrugs. "Roy owes me." He grabs two beers and lets the door swing back into darkness. "Besides he brings people back here all the time to impress them. I should get the same privilege."

"Are you trying to impress me?" Wally asks. He leans against the opposite side of the counter to Dick and takes one of the beers.

Dick sets his elbows on the bar and tilts forward, closer to Wally. "Why would I need to impress you?"

Wally gets the distinct impression Dick is being flirtatious. Deliberately. Towards him. It sends a shiver up his spine that he tries to ignore with a shrug. "No idea. I think you kind of blew it when you let me see you cry at Lilo & Stitch."

"I remember us both crying." Dick pushes upright, moves out from behind the bar and towards the banks of machines. "Which one do we turn on first?"

"You got a roll of quarters in your pocket then? Or...?" Wally trails off, feeling his face burn a little. _That_ sounded like a terrible come on, but maybe Dick—having not had to listen to their friends' conspiracies—wouldn't notice. He's grateful for the low lights when Dick turns to him, gaze piercing.

"Well, I'm always happy to see you."

Wally hadn't realised his face could get any hotter. He drains nearly half his beer trying to counter his awkwardness and clears his throat. "Mortal Kombat?" he suggests. He could definitely use the distraction.

Somehow even three beers in Dick looks more graceful on the dance pad than Wally could ever hope to accomplish sober: barely missing any beats, twisting and jumping enough to make Wally dizzy. He hits the final steps with a flourishing pose and Wally applauds him, sitting on the railing at the back of the player two pad.

Dick turns with a laugh and a bow.

"You're amazing," Wally says, "you know that?"

Dick side-steps, putting himself into Wally's space and effectively blocking any exit but over the back of the railing. Wally's not drunk enough to think that's a good idea, but he's not sure letting Dick this close—breathless and laughing—is a better one, especially when Dick tips forward and puts himself nose to nose with Wally.

"Yeah?" he asks, eyes half-lidded. He's so close Wally can see the sparks of green in the deep blue, can pick out a few pale lashes in the spray of black. So close that if Wally moved forward at all they'd be kissing. He swallows.

"Yeah," he says, almost too quiet to be heard over the menu music blaring from the machine behind Dick.

And then Dick tilts his head and moves even closer, eyes fluttering closed with clear intention, and Wally pulls back sharply, nervous excitement clashing with churning fear and he can't pull the two apart without the space to think. He bites his lip and curls his fingers around the metal bar beneath him and makes eye contact with Dick, frozen in place, jaw tense.

"I don't—" Wally starts, voice shaking, words falling away. He doesn't what? Like Dick? Maybe Roy was onto something about his denial, but he can't deny it anymore, not after tonight. That doesn't make him any happier about falling right into Roy's schemes though. "Were you in on it?" he asks.

There's a slight pinch between Dick's brows, an imperceptible frown. "You'll have to be more specific," he says slowly. "In on what?"

Wally sighs, and tries not to think about how he can feel the reflection of his breath against Dick's cheek. "Roy, playing matchmaker between us. He told me he'd set me up on a blind date tonight, and then he sent you. Did you know?" His stomach twists at the thought. Could Dick have manipulated Wally into this position? Probably; he was certainly smart enough and knew Wally well enough. Would he have?

Dick blinks, the corners of his mouth tipping downwards to something sad. "Wally, no, I—" He takes a step back and runs a hand through his hair. "Fuck," he mutters, anger bursting through lightning quick. "I'm going to kill him." He leans forward again, looping his hands gently around Wally's wrists, thumbs brushing over his skin. "I— I _like_ you."

There's an explosion of butterflies, not just in Wally's stomach but across his skin. "Really?" he asks.

Dick chuckles. "You're really going to question that, right after I tried to kiss you?"

Wally thinks he probably looks a little dopey: flushed, flustered, and more than a little enamoured, but Dick is just as awkward and vulnerable, so maybe it's a perfect match.

"Roy knew that I liked you, and maybe that's why he pulled this crap, but I..." Dick squeezes his fingers a little tighter, cheeks tinting pink. "I always kind of hoped that if you agreed to go out with me it would be because you wanted to. Because you wanted _me_."

"I do," Wally whispers.

"What?"

In for a penny, Wally thinks, surging forward and catching Dick's surprised lips against his own. It's far less smooth than Dick would have been, he's sure, but it doesn't matter when Dick makes a soft noise and slides his hands up from Wally's wrists, wrapping them around his neck instead and pulls, trying to get closer.

And Wally almost falls over.

He breaks away, eyes flying open, puts a foot out to balance himself and still almost trips them both back against the screen. Dick laughs, hands still curled around Wally's neck. "Maybe we should get you on solid ground?" he suggests.

Wally's going to kiss him again, and then probably again and again.

_ <wonder chick> hey _ **_@short pants_ ** _did you get laid last night or something?_

_ <speedy> wait _

_ <speedy> w a i t _

_ <speedy> _ **_@twinkle toes_ **

_ <twinkle toes> wally can't come to the phone right now, can I take a message? _

_ <speedy> _ **_@gillhead_ ** _you owe me ten bucks_

"Fuck off, Roy," Wally grouses around the screwdriver in his mouth, eyes focused on the board in front of him, pieced together from eBay parts.

Roy ignores him, dropping into one of the other chairs at the break room table with a smug look on his face. "You're welcome," he says.

"For what?" Wally can feel his ears turning pink but he's determined not to give Roy the satisfaction.

"Well, judging from the hickies..."

Wally slaps a hand over his neck and then realises he might as well have a signpost declaring Roy was right, about everything. He allows himself a brief moment to imagine stabbing his friend in the leg with a screwdriver.

Roy laughs. "You can admit you'd be lost without me at any time."

Wally flips him off.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and to everyone who leaves a comment I don't get round to replying to: I'm sorry I'm super bad at replying, but I read every one and they always make me smile and then I just forget to respond so blanket love to you all, you really keep me going <3


End file.
